


A Pause

by noifsandsorbees



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5491505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noifsandsorbees/pseuds/noifsandsorbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: Tired Scully trying to take a bath, and Mulder keeps interrupting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pause

she’d forgotten how exhausting he could be on the job. how his mind never turned off and how he needed her at all hours as a sounding board. how much he relied on physical connection to get through the most trivial of situations, even when he no longer spent his nights at her side.

the weight of not kissing him, of seeing his heart break every day, of endlessly trying to glue her own back together while they are pretending to be the agents they once were is leaving her bones and muscles unbearably weary, eating away all the energy she can muster.

they’re somewhere in nebraska, surrounded by corn fields and familiarity, and she’d submerged herself in a bath as soon as they’d parted for the night, leaving their connecting door unlocked on a whim she didn’t dare analyze. 

he knocks on the bathroom door after only a few minutes and she stays silent, no words forming in her mouth as her brain runs on overdrive.

“scully,” he says, and it’s in his broken voice, the one he waits until after work to use, the one that still can’t let her walk away, even if she thinks it could save them both.

he doesn’t come in and he doesn’t leave, and even the bath oils she’d brought from home do nothing to ease the stress that comes with hearing his heart strain in each breath.

“come in, mulder,” she finally says, and she looks down at his bare feet stepping onto the tile, the frayed hem of his pajama pants sweeping over them.

she reaches behind her for a towel and folds it into a pillow, placing on the side on the tub, just inches from her head. he sits next to her on the floor, his head leaning back onto the towel, eyes glued to the ceiling and legs bent in the cramped room. her hand fumbles for his in a reflex she forgets to suppress and she almost relaxes again as his thumb swipes subconsciously over her knuckles.

she thinks maybe this is the night, the night where they’re finally going to talk, finally going to figure out how they can be partners and ex-lovers and completely in love, yet somehow still unable to make things work. she doesn’t know how to balance that, at least at the end, he’d brought out the darkest parts of her, with the fact that he personifies self destruction without her.

but it doesn’t happen. he just sits and caresses her hand, closes his eyes and breathes in the smell that used to fill their bathroom each night.

she closes hers too, tries to force herself to relax, but then he brings her hand to his lips and kisses the back, and she feels her heart raging at her to make this dance between them stop, to let him stay tonight and maybe go home with him tomorrow. to hope these peaceful moments outweigh the weeks where he would disappear across the country or into his own head.

but before she can say anything, he turns around, presses his lips against her forehead in a kiss that drains all resolve from her body, and stands. she holds onto his arm as he leaves, letting her hand trail down his forearm and grasp his fingers one more time before he disappears.

he comes back for just a minute, staring at her with the same look of peaceful awe he had when she’d finally agreed to marry him all those years ago. “goodnight, scully,” he whispers and leaves again.

she lifts herself out of the tub on legs almost too weak to stand on and wraps a towel around her body. before she can think through it, she slips into his dark room, leaving the towel on the floor as she crawls in beside him.

it’s easy to curl back into his arms, to lay her wet head on his t-shirt and let his hands run along her back. it’s second nature to bring her lips to his before she falls asleep.

it’s impossible to remember why she can’t do this anymore when all she can feel is their heartbeats in sync.


End file.
